


The Distance Between Words And Actions

by anemic_cinema



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, First Time, Long-Distance Relationship, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2014-11-26
Packaged: 2018-02-27 03:21:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2677136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anemic_cinema/pseuds/anemic_cinema
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two women meet for the first time, and words aren't enough for one of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Distance Between Words And Actions

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Although this is in the first person, this is not based on any personal experiences, although it was inspired by a real person.

The first kiss knocked the breath out of me. The second gave it back. Not that breathing was high up on my list at the moment, not when I had her hands combing through my hair. Those plump hands gripped onto it at root, and pulled my head back, breaking the contact between our mouthes. It stung, and it was welcome.

I whimpered out something that sounded like “Fuck!” but it was far too pathetic sounding to carry any weight. I've never been the kind of person to speak well in situations like these. She grinned slyly at me, and pressed her body against mine. My back was flat against the wall, and it was making the zipper on the back of my dress pinch my skin. But I wanted her weight on top of me, more than anything that could be wanted.

“I've been waiting so long to do that to you.” She leaned in, avoiding the lips that were wordlessly begging for more kisses and for everything beyond that. Instead they landed on my throat. The only words I thought of were hot and wet and perfect. I gasped, my body straining for anything more. More, more touching, more kisses, more her.

“More...” That was the only thing I could manage to get out past my lips. It was the only word that mattered to me at the moment. 

One of the hands left my hair, and trailed down my body. It paused at my breast, squeezing it through the bra that had way too much padding in it for this moment. I wanted full contact so desperately it was worse that all the anticipation I'd suffered through getting to this point with this person. The flight that had felt like way more than four hours. The drive from the airport to the hotel that had taken too much time. The steps through the doors of the hotel that had lead me to meet the one person that had motivated all this traveling. And then, the worst part, the trip up in the elevator standing next to her, having to keep a straight face around the other people in the small space with us when all I wanted to do was drop to my knees and do everything I'd fantasized about doing to her. 

And now she had her hand up the skirt of my dress, and it was exactly where it needed to be.

“Jesus.” She stroked me over my panties, pressing her fingers between the lips of my cunt through the fabric. They were good black lace, brand new and way too expensive. I'd gotten them because it seemed like the thing to do. That's what you do when you go to meet someone who says they want to fuck you all night. They were also soaked through from the excitement. I was too embarrassed to admit it, but they'd been that way since the plane had taken off at the airport. “You're easy to please.” 

I took that pause as a chance to kiss her again, my tongue licking its way in. She tasted faintly of coffee. She tasted warm. I wanted her taste in my mouth forever, and it made me want things that were beyond the words I'm capable of saying out loud. So words were pushed aside, and I pushed her towards the bed. The mattress creaked from our weight. When I'd imagined this moment in those moments in the middle of the night when all I had were my hands for company, I'd figured that this moment would be slow, delicate maybe. How stupid. You don't put a starving animal in front of a feast, tell it to eat, and expect things to be delicate. 

The tight cotton of the dress cracked as I yanked down the zipper. She was watching me, and in her gaze I felt the same hunger. The bra got flung aside, but I kept on the underwear and the knee highs I'd been wearing. She knew I had a thing for doing it like that. She'd promised that if we ever managed to get together, I could keep them on. 

Her hands took hold of my wrists and she pulled me back towards the bed. She kissed my belly, nuzzling it. With previous lovers, I'd always felt awkward about it. It swung low, it formed rolls when I sat down. It was marked with faded stretch marks and it was deemed unsexy by the world at large. Right now, it felt very sexy, and very much a part of me that deserved love. Her tongue left wet trails across it and her teeth pulled at the skin just hard enough to leave marks. I hoped that they would anyway, I wanted souvenirs from this trip.

I bent down and kissed the top of her head. Strands of soft brown hair stuck to the lip balm I'd slicked on in the taxi. My fingers tugged at her shirt. Need was turning all of my movements automatic. Her clothes were tossed aside and then I was on my knees and then my mouth was on her breasts and my tongue was making her make sounds that I wanted to never forget and then I was between her legs and then nothing mattered except how her gorgeous big thighs shook and how I wanted her taste in my mouth forever and ever.

The hotel room carpet left rough indentations on my knees. They itched and turned red. 

But then her hands were in my hair again and then she had me on my back again, this time sinking into the bed and then nothing mattered except her. No words. Just sounds. Soft, then louder and louder until it was in harmony with the rhythm of the mattress underneath us. Louder, until I could make even sounds and all that was left was me looking at her pleading for her to fuck me harder until I was nothing but a gasping mess underneath her. 

And that's what she did.

Her weight on me, her hands stroking me, holding me like I was something worth holding. The panties I'd paid too much for were now askew and slightly torn from being pushed aside. They joined the rest of the clothes on the floor, along with the socks. The covers were enough for now. Her chest was my pillow. As the orgasm faded into calm, fear gripped me. My eyes half-opened, I tried to commit the texture of her skin to memory, the way she smelled, how her body molded against mine, how her bangs looked all askew and how her cheeks were so red she looked like she'd been running through snow. The fear was wordless, awful, like this was just a small moment that could never be recaptured and would be over too soon. Just a few days in which to be with one another and be happy in each other's company. It wasn't enough, and I was afraid that no amount of time would be enough.

Her lips pressed against my forehead. They were soft and warm, like every part of her. 

“You feel so good.” 

The words knocked the fear out and brought the calm back in.


End file.
